Eau Claire’s first Wingstop opened this past Monday, April 20, 2026. After close to a year and a half of waiting, it will surprise none to know that its opening week has been very busy. Many patrons would respond by waiting until it calmed down.
I, however, was more than determined to get my chicken. That is why I only waited until the day after Wingstop opened. 4:07 p.m. on Tuesday, April 21st.
A friend and I walked into said Wingstop to find a completely packed building. If you’ve ever been to the DMV right around lunch on a Friday, it was only a little bit better than that. At least no children coughed on me.
After we ordered our wings — a meal for two people comprising 15 boneless wings with extras, but we’ll get around to that later — we found a seat. It was a long wait, but we’ll have to get around to that later, too, because this experience raised some questions.
Like, what are we doing here? Why are people lining up to try fast food chicken wings? Every fast food place has chicken now, and why that is is its own question. You could make a three-hour video essay on why every fast food joint makes fried chicken now.
The conclusion to that video essay would probably be the Popeyes chicken sandwich.
My question, then, is why Wingstop in particular? We have a Cane’s in Eau Claire already, we have had a KFC for a long time. Much to my chagrin, we have a Chick-fil-A that gets pretty respectable foot traffic. Wendy’s has chicken sandwiches, so does Arby’s. Every single place.
I have never personally been big on the idea of the “opening day experience.” I don’t care for limited-edition fast food offerings, and I don’t pay any special attention to the brand itself.
The idea of saying to a friend, “hey, we have to try this new Baja Blast Pie, we have to go now. We have to spend $19.99 plus tax” and rushing to Taco Bell abhors me, to be honest. Especially when, as in this case, it’ll be the same food in two weeks.
So our adventure to get Wingstop betrayed my own values, and it felt like I had sacrificed myself as well as about 90 minutes of my life for some kind of novel chicken and fries.
We sat there, commiserating on the long wait with the guy at the next table, wondering. I questioned my motivations. I questioned the idea of Wingstop itself. I questioned why anyone goes to sports bars, and if this was proof that I really am evil.
And then, well, we got our food. We disembarked the glossy green seats of the newly-opened Wingstop at 5:44 p.m., making our way back to eat on the white linoleum floor of an Oak Ridge dorm.
15 wings, 8 of which were lemon pepper (an Atlanta strip club staple), 7 of which were “Classic Hot.” Alongside the wings, a paper boat of fries. Both wing flavors were tossed in wet sauces, if you must know. The spread was flanked by two plastic containers of bleu cheese dressing.
And yeah, it was worth it. Wingstop’s lemon pepper wings are a buttery affair, their “Classic Hot” well-layered in what tasted like a regular Tabasco or Frank’s, a rather mild offering. The breading held up well to both sauces, leaving it crisp and nothing too dry.
Their fries, firm more than crisp, put forward a lot of onion and garlic powder, an experience I enjoyed, especially with the bleu cheese dressing and its acidity on top. A 20 ounce lemonade still sits in my refrigerator. I was pleasantly shocked by the whole experience.
So yes, Wingstop is that good. Until it calms down, though, bring a friend to wait with.
Zien can be reached at [email protected].
